This is the call to arms, the final callExchanged the shuttle for the swordFor generations we slaved away in the shadows of their towersThe world we know, a torture-chamberBorn as servants, exploited till deathTo their machines we're marching with Captain Ludd in mind

The final march begins, down with all kingsThe shroud we weave completedThe air we breathe is not the stench of slaveryDown with the king!Down with all kings!

Winter-withered bodies, souls sunken into miseryOur minds and future as black as our masters' heartsNow we engage the enemy